You never forget the moment that you see a true rarity.
I was diving at a depth of 45 feet, exploring a large coral formation that glowed with beautiful shades of green. I turned the corner, passing schools of silver drummers that looked like tiny knives slicing through the blue and came upon a black coral formation. Suddenly, from behind the coral rose a pair of Ballina angelfish.
I froze. These are some of the rarest fishes in the world, and I was lucky to catch a glimpse of them. The Ballina angelfish had first been identified in 1959 after a dead one washed ashore on a beach in Ballina, on the eastern coast of Australia. Another 30 years passed before two more were found in the 1990s in the waters around Lord Howe Island.
I floated and watched as the rare pair — bright yellow in color with black bands across the top — lazily nosed around the coral reef. I wore the ecstatic smile of the Skin Diver Who Has Found a Grail.
Then, just as quickly as I had come upon the pair, they swam away, never to be seen again.
As I surfaced, I looked around for our dive boat, which was adrift by one of nature’s amazing engineering feats — a sea “stack.” Floating on the surface, I gazed up at this triangular-shaped rock formation, known as Ball’s Pyramid, that rises out of the sea more than 1,800 feet.
Inhospitable, battered by heavy seas, swirling winds and unpredictable ocean currents, it is nevertheless the home to thousands of seabirds. In Australia, it is the sole breeding location of the Kermadec petrel.
Ball’s Pyramid lies 13 nautical miles southeast of Lord Howe Island, which is 500 miles off the eastern coast Australia, and is the island’s most magnificent dive site. They are both remnants of an ancient volcanic chain more than 6 million years old. Only 1/40th of their landmass survives, but this geography has created diverse dive sites of dropoffs, walls, caves, swim-throughs and gutters.
While sitting on the deck, waiting for our next dive, Brian Busteed — of Howea divers — tells tales of Ball’s Pyramid and its watery wildlife.
“There are only 12 known pairs of the Ballina angelfish on record. A few years ago four were stolen from Sunken Rock not far from here. Two died and the others were sold for a reported $15,000 apiece. So we were extremely fortunate to have seen them.”
Divemaster Brian went on with another unforgettable story. “A few years ago — while doing our five-meter safety stop here — I saw a huge dark shape approaching out of the blue. My first impression was that it was a whale.
As it neared and turned toward us, it became clear by the shape of its head, huge mouth and white spots that it was a whale shark. It cruised between the other divers and me. What a thrilling experience!” Whale sharks and Napoleon Wrasse are the latest sightings here, and it is possible that new species of fish are still waiting to be discovered in this largely uncharted world.
Our second dive was on Observatory Rock, two rocks northeast of the Pyramid.
As I stood on the deck of the boat, before my dive, I saw enormous boulders piled up its face, creating tunnels and hiding places for crayfish and eels.
When I plunged into the water, the reef fish swarmed like honeybees and massive congregations of trevally surrounded us. Suddenly, all became still, as thousands of one spot chromis, milling around the soft corals, disappeared. We nervously looked around for “something big” that has spooked them. Out of the deep azure water came a group of huge greenback kingfish — easily three to four feet long. The world record kingfish was caught in the waters around New Zealand. Lord Howe’s record is 107 pounds. These enormous fish swam indifferently around us and vanished into the blue. Later, at the day’s end, 20 dolphins appeared in our wake, as our boat headed back to Lord Howe Island.
Lord Howe’s isolation from other landmass has made for a special ecosystem of plants, animals and marine life. In 1982, it was declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, and 35 percent of it is a national park, with miles of well-mapped walking trails or “tracks.” The world’s southernmost coral reef is here.
Although located in cooler waters, it has an unusual mix of tropical and temperate undersea life, including 490 species of fish. In summer, the East Australian current sweeps in, carrying the larvae of many tropical sea creatures. The Ballina angelfish and Lord Howe Moray eel are found only here, along with certain birds, like the wood hen, and a strange prehistoric stick-like insect called the phasmid.
Capella Lodge, where I stayed on Lord Howe, has a spectacular view, offering a transcendent scene that pours through the restaurant’s big picture windows and changes beautifully with the light. It is one of the 16 family-operated guesthouses that are the island’s only hostelries. Recently it was purchased by James Baillie and is undergoing a total renovation to be completed by September, 2004. This is the first time in history that an outsider has purchased one of the guesthouses on Lord Howe. With the renovation, the lodge will be modernized and nine rooms will have fabulous views of the mountains and the sea. Capella provides everything a visitor needs for the perfect Lord Howe experience: great service and hospitality, a good restaurant, and your own locker of snorkels, masks and flippers to explore the nearby lagoon.
That evening, while dining on the local catch of kingfish at the Capella lodge, I gazed in awe at Mt. Gower (2,871 feet) and Mt. Lidgbird (2,331 ft.). Both had a wondrous rainbow at their base, while a ring of clouds hung like a shroud on each peak. The next day, I was to meet the island’s licensed trail guide and hike to the summit of Mt. Gower.
Early in the morning, I followed the trail leading easily to “little island.” This was the designated meeting place for the hike to Mt. Gower. I joined an international group of about 15, along with Jack Schick, our local guide.
After brief introductions and information about the climb, Schick said, “Please choose a hard hat,” which we wore until we reached the cave. “There are rope assists to help you throughout the steepest part of the climb. And please be careful because the trail can get moist and slippery.” We began our ascent and soon appreciated those “rope assists,” which I grabbed and held tightly. Hundreds of feet below was the rugged coastline and crashing surf. One slip, and a hard hat won’t save you. After a breathtaking start, the first rest stop was a large cave of volcanic rock, fringed with Kentia palm trees, which are indigenous to Lord Howe. A local nursery ships seedlings worldwide, and the revenue goes toward the upkeep of the island.
“Who wants to learn how to climb a palm tree?” Schick asked.
Holding a piece of cloth he demonstrated quite easily, making it halfway up the
smooth trunk. We had a few daring volunteers, who wrapped the cloth around their feet, then the trunk, and shimmied up awkwardly. It is quite a skill that requires some practice.
After that interlude, Schick gathered the group together and announced, “In order to make the round trip in daylight, we need to keep moving.” Leaving our hard hats behind, we pressed on to a medium to hard track. Soon we were in a rainforest of wild orchids, some as small as our fingertips. In 1869 a group of botanists found one of the world’s rarest plants, the pumpkin tree, on their two-day ascent of Mt. Gower. New species of plants are still waiting to be discovered, but the true magic of the hike awaits at the summit.
After several hours of steep hiking, we reached the top to find seabirds circling high overhead. Schick called out, “CREE, CREE.” I felt a large thump on my head. A seabird had ricocheted off my hat and landed on the ground. Then more petrels started dropping from the sky, like small bombs, and running toward us.
“It’s quite okay to pick them up,” said Schick, holding a bird gently.
“They’re very tame. This is one of the few places on Earth that birds exhibit this behavior.” Quite amazed, we admired the fallen and friendly birds, another wonder of Lord Howe.
The following day, I boarded the Coral Princess to explore the lagoon on the west side of the island. The first stop was Comets Hole, named after a ketch that traded here regularly in the 1870s and dropped anchor in this spot. In the water, at a shallow dive of 25 feet, I saw that this was a semicircular reef wall with a weedy bottom, and there I glimpsed the largest stingray I have ever seen, around four feet across, lying camouflaged in sand. As I explored, I found the reef was lined with many of Lord Howe’s 98 coral species, such as staghorn, and dozens of sea anemones. Large spangled emperors and double header wrasse milled about. A freshwater spring that emerges from under the sandy bottom sometimes caused low visibility. The lagoon is a haven for snorkelers and for night diving, since it is well protected from the elements. For more adventurous dive experiences, there’s Gower’s Pinnacle located north of the Admiralty Islands (rock outcroppings) with a wave-cut tunnel.
The pinnacle’s deep gutters are home to schools of pelagics and huge black coral trees. Gorgonia fans waved in the currents. Sharks, emperors, surgeonfish and black cod frequent the drop-off. Near the Admiralty Islands is Rupert’s Reef — a great dive for all levels of experience. A crevice running through this reef is a great location for nudibranchs and Spanish dancers.
Lord Howe is an island of aquatic, cultural and visual rarities, and it also treasures its privacy. There are only about 350 residents, and it limits tourism to only 393 visitors at any one time. This is an island free of resorts, nightclubs and skyscrapers. If you don’t plan far ahead, you may find the island’s doors closed to your entry.
Trust is one of the island’s rarities as well. Its honor system dictates that you can borrow anything — a surfboard, a bike, a kayak, whatever — as long as you return it. There is just one policeman on the island, with perhaps the easiest job in the world. His main duty seems to be giving tickets to those who ride bicycles without wearing their helmets.
The next day, while I was walking along Lagoon Beach, a suntanned stranger walked out of a dive hut and approached me.
“Would you like to borrow a mask and snorkel?” Taken aback, I answered, “Not right now, thanks.” “Well, if you need them, they’re right there,” he said, smiling. “Just make sure you put them back.” I stood there for a long moment after he left. The man didn’t know me, didn’t ask my name, didn’t even ask where I was staying. He just trusted me.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the whole world were like that, a paradise of trust?
